


You Owe Me

by AshenCrystal



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dragonborn is a bit of an antihero, Dragonborn needs to stuff his ego away, Writing Exercise, badass mage girl saves his dumb egotistical ass, idk TAGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:08:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenCrystal/pseuds/AshenCrystal
Summary: It was supposed to be an easy job. Go in, wreck some shit, ruin some lives, walk out, get paid. That's how it always went. But of course, everytime he seemed to be catching a break, the world would seem to throw something at him to keep him on his toes. And he appreciated the world's concern, he really did, but sometimes a guy just wanted to relax for a while without having to worry about dragons or daedra or vampires and whatever other shit he had tossed in his direction on a daily basis. Even heroes need breaks. And that's why he had taken this job.Based on a writing prompt: "You owe me."





	You Owe Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a writing exercise I made a while back and when I reread it I realized it seemed good enough to post here. Enjoy!

How in Oblivion had he gotten into this situation? That was a question Felix often asked himself every day. Being the Dragonborn was no easy task, everyone was either trying to fuck you or fuck you up. He didn't usually mind the former, but the latter was starting to become a real inconvenience. Take this group of raiders, for instance. It was supposed to be an easy job. Go in, wreck some shit, ruin some lives, walk out, get paid. That's how it always went. But of course, everytime he seemed to be catching a break, the world would seem to throw something at him to keep him on his toes. And he appreciated the world's concern, he really did, but sometimes a guy just wanted to relax for a while without having to worry about dragons or daedra or vampires and whatever other shit he had tossed in his direction on a daily basis. Even heroes need breaks. And that's why he had taken this job.

However, as his luck would have it, it wasn't such a simple job. Turns out the raiders weren't raiders at all, but were worshiping some necromancer who had proclaimed himself as a god and now he was getting swarmed by thralls and raiders alike. He had never been much for running away, but there were certain times when it was required. He'd say, being chased by an endless swarm of the undead was definitely an excuse to make it one of those times.

His feet skidded across the floor as he turned the corner, reaching out to the wall beside him to catch himself as he nearly fell over and his chest heaved up and down. He swallowed hard as he attempted to catch his breath, glancing behind him to see the hallway was empty and the air had become still. The dead silence was startling, it was _far_ too quiet for his taste. He had to keep moving.

He wasn't about to lower his guard though now that he was no longer being chased, and he reached for one of his daggers, carefully pulling it from its sheath. As he took cautious steps down the halls, he kept a careful ear out for any sounds, but the only noises he could hear was the muffled sound of his own footsteps. Until suddenly, there was a creak. Within instants, he turned the corner and sank his blade into soft, decaying flesh and his signature smirk slithered across his lips. "A good effort, but poorly executed plan." The dagger withdrew from the man's throat with a soft slick sound and Felix flicked his wrist, the blood splattering off the blade and onto the wall. They were trying to get the drop on him. Well, they weren't the only ones who could be sneaky. He might enjoy being extravagant and noticed, but if there was one thing Felix knew, it was how to remain unnoticed.

The pattern continued throughout the next four halls, an undead would leap out at him and he would retaliate, and he was beginning to get bored of the predictablity. So much in fact, that he had begun to stop attempting stealth. His footsteps became louder, his stride more confident. He had let his guard down, his arrogance taking over. One of his biggest weaknesses was his overconfidence, he always thought better of himself, so the moment he had begun to lose interest in putting his all in fighting was the moment his skill would decrease. Of course, you would only figure this out if you were capable of reading people, and as far as he knew, the undead weren't very smart.

But the very fact that he underestimated them was _exactly_ how they took him by surprise. He had forgotten that he wasn't solely escaping the undead, but real live flesh humans as well. And that was his first mistake.

So once again, how in Oblivion had he gotten into this situation? The answer is simple. He let his ego get to him.

 

And that's the reason as to how Lyric stepped into the picture.

She had been tracking the Dragonborn for days, knowing full well that his pride was going to land him into a bad situation. In fact, that was _exactly_ what she was depending on. She just expected it to take longer than a few days. As she made her way into the tomb, she began to wonder to herself how he was supposed to be the savior of Skyrim.

It didn't take her long to find him, all she had to do was follow the trail of bodies that he had left behind. For a hero, he didn't seem to mind bloodshed, even if they _had_ already been dead. Pushing the thought aside, she carried on, stepping carefully through the mazed tomb and dipping out of sight when undead passed by her. She wanted to avoid any conflict until she found the Dragonborn, but of course, it wouldn't be that simple. Eventually, she was noticed. Lucky for her, it was around the same time she stumbled across the Dragonborn.

He had been cornered by several raiders and while she knew he was perfectly capable of handling himself, he wasn't a miracle worker.

  
"I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way then." She sighed, then without a moment's hesitation, fire burst from her palms, turning the raiders into ash within seconds. She had always favored the effects of ice magic, but she had been on borrowed time.

"Need some help, Dragonborn?" She inquired, the heat from her hands cooling and she reached out to help him up. He looked up at her, narrowing his dual colored eyes before he pushed her hand aside and used his elbows to prop himself up.

"I had everything handled, frosty." He spoke dryly, rising to his feet.

Lyric fought the urge to roll her eyes and drew her hand back. "It's Lyric. I suggest you keep that in mind next time I have to save you. By the way - you're welcome."

Who did this girl think she was? _He_ was the hero of this story, why was she strutting around asking like _she_ was the next Dragonborn? That was _his_ job.

A scoff rumbled through his throat, "Whatever." His eyelid began to instinctively close as blood dripped down and he reached up, letting out a soft hiss as he felt a cut underneath his fingers. He hadn't even noticed it before, he had been too caught up in the fight. Lyric instantly reached out to him her hand glowing a soft color but he merely responded by taking a step back. "I don't need your magic. It's just a flesh wound."

She looked briefly put out, though it only lasted a moment before she simply turned her back on him. "Alright, suit yourself. Come on, we should get going."

As she began to walk away, Felix grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back and wagging his finger. "Ah ah. _I'm_ the hero here, frosty. Therefore, _I'm_ the one who leads." He barely took notice of the roll of her violet eyes as he stepped past her, moving for the doorway then pausing. "Actually... I changed my mind. I want to test you. Let's see how well you can lead us out." Truthfully, he couldn't remember which way he came from.

Lyric seemed to sense this, as she gave him a skeptical look before giving him a shake of her head and began to lead him down the halls. She had memorized every turn she had took so they were on their way out of the tomb within minutes. Along the way, they had encountered a few raiders and as they picked them off, she began to see the reason behind everyone's praise. However, it did not stop her annoyance with him, as he always insisted on talking in the middle of the fight. If he was going to be like this the whole time, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to stick with him. Still, he was her best shot at being somebody, so she would tough it out.

After several encounters with the raiders and undead, they had finally stepped out the doors of the tomb, exhausted and wounded. Lyric had made the Dragonborn lean against her despite his protests and once they had reached a safe place, she helped him sit down. "I'm going to heal you." She stated, then when he opened his mouth, she cut him off in an instant. "No. I don't want to hear it. You can't go anywhere like this."

When he remained silent, she took that as her cue to continue and her hands glowed once more as she carefully hovered them over his injuries. It hadn't taken her long, she was a skilled mage after all and had spent most of her time practicing the art of healing over various other options. What would normally take a mage minutes to complete was finished in half the time and she watched the wound on his head close. "There. You're all fixed. They are still tender though, so _do_ try not to reopen them."

He watched her briefly, his mind finally allowing him to think clearly now that the adrenaline was fading from him. It seems she was more competent than he had given her credit for. Not that he would ever tell her that. "Thanks." He replied, offering her the tiniest of smiles. He then turned his attention away, and it was then that he began to notice the sunrise. A warm welcome to the wild adventure they had just experienced.

As the sun rose over the horizon, Lyric glanced over to the Dragonborn, noticing how the golden light caressed his face and she finally understood why people saw him to be a hero. But she was soon reminded of the truth when he spoke three, rather irritating words to her.

"You owe me."


End file.
